The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 19

The message was just two words, nothing more.

[Come back.]

Latisha’s heart dropped. She glanced at Nikita, who was still basking in her joy, and silently slipped the phone back into her pocket.

Nikita threw an arm around her shoulders, grinning. “See, Latisha? You can make your own money, right? You can support your own baby. What do you need that bastard for?”

Latisha forced a smile and signed, *Nikita, I should get going.*

“What for? Let’s grab dinner tonight! We have to celebrate.”

Latisha waved her hand dismissively, then gently touched her stomach. *I need to go home and take my medicine.*

“Oh, right. I completely forgot. Your pregnancy is still delicate. I’ll take you home, then. We can celebrate properly after the contract is signed.”

Latisha nodded with a faint smile. She followed Nikita out of the coffee shop and hopped onto the back of her motorcycle.

Because she was pregnant, Nikita drove with uncharacteristic care. She kept the bike steady, didn't run any red lights, and had even brought a rain jacket for her.

When they arrived back at the villa, Nikita helped her off with the helmet and jacket, balling up the latter haphazardly. “Alright, you head inside. I’ll call you as soon as Mr. Taylor finalizes everything.”

Latisha nodded and turned toward the house.

The front door was ajar, which meant Clifford was home.

She clutched the hem of her shirt, her steps hesitant as she walked inside.

Sure enough, he was sitting on the living room sofa, deep in a phone call. His legs were crossed, one hand holding his phone while the other rested casually along the back of the couch. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing the sharp line of his collarbone.

Clifford’s expression was grim. As he caught sight of Latisha, he spoke into the phone. “It looks like someone is pulling strings, and it’s not a minor player. Start by finding out the reasons for the restrictions in those countries.”

He ended the call and his gaze fell on Latisha. His eyes swept over her from head to toe, taking in her hair, her clothes, her shoes, before finally settling on her face.

“Where have you been?”

The question made her entire body go rigid.

He tilted his head up to meet her expressive eyes. They were so close she could see her own reflection in his pupils—a tense, pale face staring back. His scrutinizing gaze was heavy with pressure, and she unconsciously tightened her grip on the back of his shirt.

“Tell me,” Clifford pressed, “what do you need the money for?”

His eyes were like daggers.

Though his voice was calm, Latisha could feel the danger simmering just beneath the surface. Her face drained of color, she had no idea how to answer. For him to ask that, he obviously knew what she’d been up to.

In the past, he’d allowed her to work at the coffee shop when she got tired of being cooped up at home; he didn't care about the pittance she earned there. But this time was different. For a massive payday, she had dared to take on a public-facing contract to shoot a video, and this came right after she’d asked for a divorce.

Clifford wasn’t a fool. It was easy for him to connect the dots. A smile touched his lips, but it held no warmth. It was a chilling, unsettling sight.

“Well?”